


Its just a sandwich

by Slaughter_Me



Series: Cute meets [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bucky is a lacrosse player, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Meet-Cute, Pining, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Steve is an angry puppy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 12:38:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5417381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slaughter_Me/pseuds/Slaughter_Me
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve got to the cafeteria--as always-- 30 seconds after the asshole that always stole the last tuna on rye sandwich. Steve was quite particular about what he ate, and that sandwich was his favourite, yet every day for the last three weeks he’d had to settle for ham on whole wheat, or a cheese and onion roll. He was always behind this obnoxious sandwich thief.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Its just a sandwich

**Author's Note:**

> Trying my hand at some cute meets, this one just came to me after reading the prompt: You always arrive at the cafeteria 30 seconds before me and take the last sandwich I like.

Steve got to the cafeteria--as always-- 30 seconds after the asshole that always stole the last tuna on rye sandwich. Steve was quite particular about what he ate, and that sandwich was his favourite, yet every day for the last three weeks he’d had to settle for ham on whole wheat, or a cheese and onion roll. He was always behind this obnoxious sandwich thief.

Every day had been the same, he had snagged the last tuna on rye. Steve had tried getting to the cafeteria early but this guy, he was ALWAYS right in front of Steve. It was infuriating to the point that Steve was considering saying something, all 110lbs of him. Sam had told him to just politely ask for the sandwich, but Steve didn't want to cause trouble. Sam laughed his ass off at this and asked him ‘Since when do you not want trouble?

So Steve sighed and grabbed an apple to go with his plain cheese roll. It wasn't that he disliked cheese so much, just that he _really_ wanted the tuna. He was doomed to spend his last year of  high school being beat out of sandwich choices, by the guy with the lacrosse pants that were so tight Steve could almost see the dimples at the top of his ass. Not that it was a particularly bad view to have of course, but why did he have to wear the pants off the field? It was scandalous to have an ass that fine and have it wrapped in tight lycra too! Steve wasn't denying the guy was easy on the eyes but he would prefer to ogle him while having the last fricking tuna on rye sandwich in his possession.

He paid for his mediocre tuna replacement and went and sat in a corner of the cafeteria. He liked to watch people while he was having his lunch--not in a creepy way--just, people watching was sort of a hobby. He found that people when eating were interesting, uninhibited. Steve liked the honesty that people projected when they thought no one was looking; like the girl in the cheerleader's outfit that sat twirling her golden curls in her fingers and looked off into the distance dreamily, while her friends chattered on around her, or the football player that was side glancing at one of his teammates, the tips of his ears turning pink when the object of his affection spoke to him. All in all lunchtime was still an interesting time as far as Steve was concerned, he just wished his sandwich was what he wanted too.

Steve considered himself an observant person, what with all the people watching he did on a daily basis, but he didn't see enough to spot the staring eyes of a certain lacrosse player watching him from across the room as he munched on his lunch.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“Clint, remind me why we have to go and watch this stupid sport?” Steve sighs dramatically.

“ _Because,_ have you seen how ripped these guys are? Sexy little hornballs all rolled up in tight, hot, sweaty uniforms. Mmhmmmmmm-” Clint butts in before Sam can finish his likely very filthy thought. “Dude, that's NOT my motivation and you know it. I like lacrosse and my friend Bucky plays on the team. He asked me to come watch them play.”

“I still don't see why that means I have to be dragged too,” Steve grouches. “I could be at home doing the reading for next week's English class.”

“That's exactly why you have to come.” Clint laughs loudly. “You work too damn hard, man. Take a break and enjoy something. Live a little, dude!”

They settle themselves in the stands two rows back from the bench where the players will be. ‘here are people all around them and it's excessively loud, Steve thinks to himself. Perfect place for him to get trampled on or have an asthma attack or something. He pats his jacket pocket to make sure his inhaler is there. Not that he doubted it would be, but better safe than sorry.

“How long does the game last?” Steve asks, hoping that it really isn't too long. He's not sure how much testosterone fuelled sport he can handle right now.

“60 minutes, across 4 quarters, and they get a small break at half time so just over an hour all in. Are you that anxious to get away already?” Clint answers him with a quirked eyebrow.

“No!” Steve shouts out. “Well, not really. Clint, I’m sorry. It’s just, you know this isn't really my scene.”

“Just give it a go, you might enjoy it.” Clint smiles. Steve thinks Clint must be up to something but he can't really see what right now. Maybe he’s just being a good friend to Steve and wants him to get his ass outta the dorm once in awhile. It's not the worst idea in the world.

“And just think Steve, if you don't like it, at least you get to ogle at the players’ butts in their tight lycra!” Sam says with a wink and a grin.

Fuck! Lacrosse, tight lycra. The sandwich thief! He will finally find out who he is. Clint is bound to know who it is if Steve can point him out. But the players all have helmets on as they come out so maybe he will have to wait til half time or something. He doesn't know the rules but he assumes that the helmets must come off at some stage. It’s just a case of watching and waiting, and those are two things Steve is very good at.

As Steve gets back to the dorm he now knows two things he didn't before the night began. Clint is an ass and the sandwich stealing fucker’s name is Bucky.

Okay, so he already knew Clint was an ass, but the depth of his assery knows no bounds. Steve pointed the thief out and Clint howled with laughter when he saw who Steve was declaring as the sandwich bandit. Clint's friend on the team is the thief. He’s also really fucking hot, but Steve already knew this from staring at his ass in line each day. He hadn't really paid much attention to his face because he was always too busy plotting the bastard’s grizzly death to pay too much attention to the particulars of his glorious face. His cheekbones could cut glass, he has grey eyes you could stare into and get lost in for hours and his lips--oh god--his lips are like friggin’ sin. Shell pink in colour and so pretty and pouty, and Bucky has this habit of biting the bottom lip and licking it excessively while in a conversation. Bucky had come over after the game and Steve had excused himself about five minutes into Clint and him talking because he couldn't seem to focus on anything other than the wet lips and the growing erection is his own pants.

He flings himself on his bed and mentally slaps himself. This is not good, not good at all. He can't have a crush on the sandwich thief! He _has_ to hate this person who has made him miserable for three weeks now. Maybe he is cranky due to lack of his favourite food. Steve sighs to himself, he’s lost it, finally lost the plot. “Cranky due to lack of tuna” makes him laugh out loud into the quiet of his room. He needs to think of something else so he fires up the laptop, maybe he just needs to find some release and relax. It’s been a few days and he did download that new cockyboys vid the other day. Tayte Hanson always helps with his stress. Except now he can't seem to get Bucky's face out of his mind, and as he is fisting his own cock in time to Tayte sucking off his latest conquest, he notices that Tayte bears a striking resemblance to Bucky, and now it's Bucky on his knees in front of Steve that he is thinking of, sucking Steve off so well and moaning around his cock for him. Steve comes like a freight train, arching up off the bed with a shout, toes curling and spine tingling. This is hands down the best orgasm he has had for a long time and it's all because of Bucky. Well, _fuck_.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The following day Steve gets to the cafeteria early, like thirty-five freaking minutes early, yet low and behold the thief appears out of nowhere in front of him and promptly picks up a sandwich, tuna of-fucking-course. Steve mutters under his breath, grabs an apple and walks forward in the queue, that is until he smacks right into the back of the person in front of him.

“Hey, watch it assho…Oh hi, it's Steve right?” Bucky quickly recovers, smirking.

“Um hi, yes, Steve I am, uhm, that's me. You’re Clint's friend right?” And sandwich stealing jerk off material. “That's me, forever to be known as Clint Barton's nameless friend.” Bucky laughs lightly and walks off, with Steve's sandwich, again!

This continues all week, each day Bucky turns and says hi. Steve mutters his ‘hi’ and glares at the back of Bucky’s head as he takes the tuna, time and time again. Steve is also jerking off daily to thoughts of Bucky on his knees for him, but he is still so pissed off that he hasn't had his favourite sandwich filling for almost a month that he has barely said two words to him. It's Thursday when Bucky asks him if he fancies going for a burger after school and Steve sputters and stammers something about homework and bolts out of there like he is on fire.

Friday rolls around and Steve is just so tired. He didn't sleep well the previous night and he's cranky as hell. He also forgot to hand his homework in for the last algebra class and he just knows that when he gets to the cafeteria if Bucky takes that damn sandwich he may just rip his head off of his shoulders and cram it up his ass.

He gets there and no one steps in front of him, no Bucky. The excitement rises as he reaches the sandwich part of the food area. He spies a lone tuna on rye and grabs it quickly, but the person behind him also reached for it at the same time and their hands tangle. Steve isn't about to let go of the sandwich, so he says to the mysterious person:

“Sorry, this one's mine.”

The voice that responds is familiar and instantly makes his balls ache. “I didn't know you liked tuna on rye, Steve. It's my favourite from here, they make it so good, don't you think?”

The anger that bubbles over in Steve is like a volcano, once he starts spewing the lava he can't stop and he rounds on Bucky, finger poking at his chest.

“Really?! Is it REALLY?” he shouts, “I wouldn't know, because _“someone”_ for the last month has been taking the last one every FUCKING day, and you know what, I have just about had enough, I want this sandwich and I will fight you for it if I have to!”

The room has gone deathly silent, everyone is just staring at him. Bucky is standing there with mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. He is clearly trying to think of something to say, so Steve decides to not bother letting him. He shoves to the front of the line, gives the cashier the money for his lunch and stomps out.

 

He finds a bench to sit at in the Quad area, and starts to open the sandwich, then stops. He takes one look at it and throws it away from himself. He is so angry, why did he just do that, Jesus fuck, Bucky is going to think he is absolutely cracked, 100% fucking loopy. Maybe he is, maybe he just needs- His inner monologue is interrupted by footsteps stopping directly in front of him. He looks up and sees Bucky, and, oh God, this is going to be painful.

“Steve, can we talk for a moment?”

“Really? You actually want to talk to me after that crazy display in there? You’re a brave one, ain't ya.” Steve tries and fails to lace his voice with with false bravado, his words come out small and frail, just like how he’s feeling.

“Yes, I do... Is that okay?”

“I guess so.” Steve replies shakily. “I just don't really see what there is to say, I lost it over a sandwich.” He puts his hands over his face and laughs. “Oh God, I lost it over a _sandwich_!”

“Yup, but not just any sandwich. I mean it was tuna on rye, probably the best sandwich in the world.”

Steve nods in agreement. “It really is, but I almost forgot what it tastes like after a month of not getting to have it.”

“Why didn't you just ask me about it? I mean I’ve been trying to pluck up the courage to speak to you since the semester started, and this would have been an ideal way,” Bucky says, ducking his head, his cheeks dappled pink in embarrassment.

“Well, that would have been...wait what? Y-You've been trying to speak to me? Why on earth would you want to talk to _me_? I'm a nobody.”

“Why wouldn’t I want to talk to you? You’re gorgeous and a real firecracker. Although I didn't know that ‘til just now of course, but still it's a valid point to my argument. I wanted to ask you out the first time I saw you, Steve.”

“Why didn't you? You don't strike me as the shy type. You weren't exactly shy about jumping in front of me everyday like a freakin’ ninja- Oh.”

“Catching up are we?” Bucky grins, “I might look like a big dumb jock, but I am actually a sensitive soul that loves poetry, dancing and taking a boy out for a burger. Real romantic shit. I never kiss on a first date or try and get into your pants ‘til at least date 10.”

“Date 10, huh? Well, if you take all the times you jumped in the line and stole my sandwich, we could say we are up to at least date 9 right? And I went to the game the other night, so that could be construed as a date.” Steve ponders with a sly grin.

“Jesus Steve, you sound like a cartoon villain here, tryin’ to steal my virtue.”

“You have a virtue to steal?” Steve questions.

Bucky blushes from the tip of his ears right down to the hollow in his throat, “I mean, it's not like I haven't done _stuff_ but yes, I guess you could say my virtue is intact.”

“So how about we ditch last period and head to Nick’s? I hear they do great burgers.” Steve surprises himself with the suggestion and then worries that Bucky will say no, but Bucky is smiling so he takes that as a good sign.

“I hear they do a really nice tuna on rye,” he says with a cheeky grin.

“Oh, you fucking asshole.” Steve laughs and punches him lightly on  his arm.

“Ouch, you dick.” Bucky rubs at his arm, but he is smiling still as he says,

“It’s just a sandwich, dude.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Come Tumble with me](http://slaughterme-barnes.tumblr.com/)


End file.
